


True Colors

by Lanning



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-09
Updated: 2001-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanning/pseuds/Lanning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey shows Dan his true colors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Colors

"It's nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, you know. Peaceful. Beautiful. Nice." Casey held on to his pleasant tone by the skin of his clenched teeth, despite the edgy melancholy of Dan's manner.

"If you say so."

Casey restrained an irrational urge to kick Dan's ass, which would be a totally uncool thing to do given present company. And Casey _was_ cool, despite opinions recently expressed to the contrary. Even if Dan (who had recently been perceived to be cooler than Casey, although perception was a very tricky thing and not necessarily to be relied upon as a measure of coolness) had been begging to have his ass kicked for the entire drive from Manhattan to Connecticut. Hell, he'd been begging to have it kicked for the past three days, ever since he'd made that damn on-air apology that had had no business being made -- on-air or off.

On second thought, maybe it was Luther Sachs who needed his ass kicked. Casey would be, not for the first time, happy to oblige.

"Yeah, I say so. Just look at those leaves." Casey waved at the spectacularly brilliant foliage above their heads and stumbled as his toe caught the edge of a hole in the rough gravel path beneath his feet. "Look at the colors."

"You know why they're that color, Case?"

"No, I don't, and I'm fine with that. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because they're beautiful to the eye and uplifting to the soul, and only a pathologically ferret-minded trivia-hoarding geek would need to explain why they're that color."

"Thus speaks the Patriarch of Geek Orthodoxy."

"Imagine my shock at finding myself surpassed."

"You know why they're that color, Case?"

"Enlightenment does seem unavoidable at this point."

"Because they're dying."

Casey kicked a small rock out of his way in frustration. "Shit, Danny."

"They're losing their chlorophyll," continued Dan in the pedantic tone that never failed to tap dance -- in spikes -- on Casey's last nerve. "They need their chlorophyll to live, and they're losing it. It's their chlorophyll that makes them green, you know. Green's not their true color. These-" he gestured over their heads "-are their true colors."

"And this is a bad thing. Being beautiful is a bad thing."

"No, not getting what you need to live is a bad thing. Dying is a bad thing."

"They're not dying, Danny. They'll be back in the spring."

"No, they won't. Leaves never make it out of their rookie year alive. New year, new team. These guys are compost."

Okay. Enough. Three days of Wednesday Addams was more than enough. It was time to get to the bottom of this, and Casey had a pretty good idea of where to start. Sometimes the best offense was … well, a good offense. "What did your dad say?"

"What?" Dan suddenly seemed to be looking everywhere, anywhere but Casey's face.

"Your dad. Kim said he called after the show the other night. What did he say?"

"Nothing important." Dan veered off on another path, leaving the cover of the trees to venture into the open field. "It's this way." He gestured vaguely with the bunch of flowers he'd bought in town, sending a few violet and yellow petals twirling earthward.

Casey actually had to break into a trot to keep up with him. "Nothing important? Danny, your dad calls you like once a year. Did he watch the show?"

"He always watches the show," said Dan flatly.

"So what did he say?"

"The usual."

"Which is?"

"You know."

Casey briefly wondered how much longer this exercise in role reversal would continue, and even more briefly pondered the possibility that karmic justice was throwing back a beer with its feet on the cosmic coffee table, and having a good laugh at his expense.

But to his surprise Dan continued, his voice deepening in a deft imitation of Rydell Senior. "'How's it going, son? Slide any further down the evolutionary scale? Provide any more aid and comfort to the enemies of American decency? Disgrace and humiliate anyone else's family on national television?'"

"Excuse me?" Casey managed to see Dan's face well enough to know he wasn't kidding. He should have been kidding.

"He didn't like my using Sam to get sympathy."

"_Using Sam?_"

"To get out of trouble."

"What the hell-"

"It's not important, Case."

"Did you explain to him-"

"What's to explain?" Dan stepped gingerly off the path and onto the grass, then wandered slowly down the aisle of stones.

"What's to- Dammit, Danny, why didn't you speak up?" It was a rhetorical question, of course, because Casey knew damn well he was standing on the answer.

Dan shrugged and squatted before one of the stones, tracing the letters with one shaking finger.

"You should have spoken up," said Casey unevenly. "That's not right, man. He's got no right to say that shit to you."

"He's my father."

"He's your father and he's wrong."

Dan laid the flowers at the foot of the stone. He'd been clutching them so tightly that the palm of his right hand was stained with green.

Casey knelt beside him. "He's wrong, Danny."

"Like you'd know." Dan's voice was harsh. "He's known me a lot longer than you have. Who's to say he isn't right? Who's to say I wouldn't use Sam to save my ass?"

"I say. I know." Casey rested his hand on Dan's arm. "I know your dad doesn't have a clue who you are. People have true colors, too, and I know yours."

Dan's eyes filled. "You are … you are fucking color blind, Case."

Casey leaned in close; he could hear his heart hammering in his ears and the blood rushing to his face. "No."

Dan tore his gaze from the stone to examine him with widening eyes; the movement spilled the tears from his eyes onto his face. He didn't pull away.

Casey tilted his head and angled his mouth enough to brush his lips to Dan's. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, not after all the time they'd spent not knowing who they were, not seeing the other for who he was, not recognizing the need they shared. As if divining the thought, Dan took Casey's head between his hands and pressed his warm, willing mouth against Casey's, his gently probing tongue seeking what Casey was only too delighted to give. Casey parted his lips slightly; their tongues met, caressed each other tenderly, then withdrew with one final, feather-light touch.

Casey realized that somewhere in all that he'd closed his eyes and stopped breathing; he forced his eyes open and took a shaky breath, trying to wrap his mind around the concept that Dan Rydell had just given him the best kiss he'd ever had. Whatever he had expected, hoped for or fantasized about, the reality has exceeded them all.

Dan watched him with an apprehensive expression. "That was … nice," he said very softly.

"Nice?" repeated Casey incredulously.

"Yeah." Dan smiled. "Peaceful. Beautiful. Nice."

"Oh." Casey felt his face stretch in a stupid, happy grin, then reached out to wipe Dan's tears away.

Dan caught Casey's hand in his own and threaded his fingers with Casey's very gently. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Casey helped his friend to his feet. "You okay?"

Dan nodded silently.

"You … uh … want some time alone here? I can wait over-"

"No," said Dan quietly. "He's heard everything I came to say."

"Okay," murmured Casey, drawing an arm around Dan's shoulders and steering him away from the grave. "Then let's go home."

Dan drew a deep breath. "Yeah." Scrubbing the remains of the green stain from his palm, he offered no resistance as Casey guided him back the way they'd come. "Case, for the record."

"Uh-huh." Casey let his arm relax around Dan's shoulders, quietly astonished by how comfortable it felt there.

"I am not -- I repeat, _not_ \-- a geek."

"I'm willing to consider that possibility."

"And I'm not pathological."

"And I'm a big enough man to admit that the pathological thing was a slight exaggeration."

"And I'm not ferret-minded."

"You know, I am really getting into this leaf thing."

"Don't talk to me."

"I could look at these colors all day."

 


End file.
